Home » Poems » Tom Arnone » Isabelle Dinoire

Isabelle Dinoire

Eleven years to this day,
Isabelle Dinoire's face did lay.
Her Labrador ate it;
The surgeons replaced it --
But, she died of rejected display.

beautybereavementdeathhealthrememberlimerick

♡Like0

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Andrea Dietrich

September 15, 2016 at 9:32 PM

In reply to your funny comment on my poem, whispering is just sexier!! Even on a beach!

Tom Arnone

September 15, 2016 at 10:13 PM

On a quiet, mostly deserted, twilight beach, perhaps.

Andrea Dietrich

September 11, 2016 at 7:51 PM

oh my, poor Isabelle!! pretty good limerick beat in this one, my friend. Sorry I am taking so long to see poems. i am WAY behind here and don't think i can ever catch up at this point.

Tom Arnone

September 11, 2016 at 7:57 PM

You do what you can (and must), Andrea. :-)

Constance La France

September 10, 2016 at 12:16 PM

Tom, it sort of made me sad, she endured so much and died so young, not wanting to laugh but I do see the humour in your limerick (btw it was tea that I was drinking on the morning stroll)

Tom Arnone

September 10, 2016 at 12:25 PM

Yes. Very sad. The limerick is intended to tell her story -- but, in a whimsical, light-hearted form. Thanks, B. W.